Having found out his Game, he strongely charged him with the Debt aforesaid, and was resolved that as he had taken so much pains, that the poor man should pay for it; poor man you must judge him to be, for it was impossible he should be rich, that had in seven years made so many removes. The money being demanded, poverty was pleaded; but he was deaf on that ear, and was resolved not to lose his labour. In conclusion, the man being honest, was content to pay, and that all too, provided he might have time to do it; to this our Clerk was pretty wiling, and an agreement was made up, to pay the money by half a Crown a week. The man, although he sometimes missed, yet when the Clerk came and received not the money, he was to spend 4d. and when he did pay, the Clerk agreed to spend 2d. so that the Clerk seldom or never missed to come and visit his Debter once every week; and the poor man seeing that if he did not pay him two shillings six pence, it was to his dammage 4d. seldom miss’d him; and thus in time, the Debt was paid, and the Clerk, in his Matters behalf, gave a discharge.
But all this while his Master the Brewer knew nothing of this matter, neither did his man intend he should; for as he had taken extraordinary pains in finding him out, so he was resolved to have extraordinary gains, and indeed, all for himself; and thought and judged that as he had oftentimes kept all for himself, so he might well do so now; for he believed although his Master should go to some Cunning-man, or the Devil himself, to find this man who had so often removed his habitation, yet he must loose his labour; and it being usual with him when People were not to be found, to write in the Margin of the Book where their Debts were entred, Non est inventus; and when they were dead, and there was no possibility of getting anything of them, to write Mortuus est, so that now he concluded that this fellow was so far from being found, that he might write Mortuus est, and so he did in the Book aforesaid. His Master had oftentimes looked over the Book, and seeing those fatal words in the Margin, had passed that Debt over, as he had done several others with the same mark. But as the Proverb saith, that the Pitcher goes not so often to the water, but that it comes home broken at last; so, although this our desperate Clerk had played many of these pranks, and that without discovery, yet now his time was come, and this business shewed him in his colours.
This poor man, who I told you, lately lived at Rederiff, had now made another remove, and from thence was come again to St. Katharines (which was near the Brewers habitation) and he having been so honest as to pay the old Debt, was resolved to try if his Credit would serve for a new: wherefore having taken a new House, fitting for the Ale-draping-Trade, he went one Morning to the Brew-house; and having no acquaintance there with any body but our desperate Clerk; he inquired for him, but although he was there early, he was never the nerer, for the Clerk was gone out; and the old fellow sauntring about the yard, at length the Brewer himself came out, and seeing one waiting there, and as he supposed about business too, he asked him if he would speak with any body; the Fellow replyed yes, with his Clerk; which of them, said the Brewer? Mr. R. said the Fellow; the Brewer telling him that he was not within, and asking him if he could not do his business; yes, if you please Sir, replied the Fellow: Well then, what is it, said the Brewer: May it please you, Sir, I am an old Customer, saith the Fellow, and have long time dealt with you: and although I have been absent a great while, yet I have been honest, and will be so still; and being come to live near you, I desire you to let me have some more drink: Well Friend, what is your name, said the Brewer: J. B. said the Fellow. How long since did you deal with me, said the Brewer: Ten years, replyed the Fellow: Whereupon the Brewer calling for his Book, looked over, and at length found it, but found it marked with a Mortuus est: how now, said he then, is your name J. B. and are you alive. Yes, Sir, said the Fellow, your Clark knows me; for I have paid him truly and honestly, and not long since he received the last.
The Brewer hearing him say so, and now discovering the whole story, and his Clerks knavery, told the man that he would send him in some Drink, but withal ordered him to come the next morning about 9 a Clock. But before that time, about 8, he took his Clerk to task, and pretending to look over his Book in general, made several stops and asked questions, but more particularly when he came to this Debt; and he asking if he never received any money of him; No, Sir, said the Clerk, I could never find him; and at length I did hear of him, but Mortuus est, Sir, He’s dead long since. Are you sure of it, replyed the Brewer: Yes, Sir, said the Clerk, I am certainly sure of it; what I have writ there is infallible: But I doubt it will not prove so, said the Master; and thereupon, seeing the Customer come in, he said, look, sure this is he, or his Ghost. Our Clerk too well knowing the matter, and that it was so apparent, knew not what to say or do, but knowing that he was in a fault, and caught too, and being guilty of many more such tricks, and doubting they would all come out, cryed Peccavi, and desired Pardon: but his Master believing him to be more Knave than he yet knew, told him his thoughts, and (withal) that he would lay him Jayl. The Clerk hearing that lamentable word, told his Master he would prevent him by drowning himself; and thereupon the house being by the water-side, he ran thither, in order to his resolution. The Brewer hearing the Clerks resolution of drowning himself, and doubting that he might be so desperate as to do so, sent after him to stop and hinder him; for he considered that he should not only be somewhat guilty of his death, but also loose by it, for he had all his Books and Tallies about him; and if he should miscarry, he was not able to prove many debts that were owing to him, wherefore he not only saved his life, but told him, he forgave him that misdemeanor, and would not ask him any satisfaction, whereupon he rested contented: But this miscarriage of his was such a blot in his Scutchion, that he was called Mortuus est, to his dying day.
But thus as he had over-reached, out-witted, or, I may truly say, Cheated his Master the Brewer, so he did, after him deal with his Mistress, but after a different manner: for his Master soon after dying, and leaving a plentiful Estate, and only a Widow to enjoy it; she knowing her Clerks abilities were sufficient, and now not doubting his honesty, gave him a very large allowance, and made him chief Clerk, and Overseer of all, he being in this high employment, was somewhat covetous, but more ambitious, and these two passions raised another, which he termed Love; and who should he be in Love with but his Mistress: and as he was her Overseer, so he intended to be her Husband. Before he had the confidence to court her, he pretended to the Servants and others, that he did so, and this was out of Pollicie to hinder the Courtships of all others. So that by that time his Mistress understood and knew his pretensions, all others did talk of the time of his Marriage: One, in his fancie, appointing at such a time, and another at such a time: so that he letting his Mistress know his passion, as he termed it, she heard that all her Servants, nay, and some of her Friends talked so freely of it, as if they seemed to allow of it.
She was much troubled at the boldness of her Servant, and forbid his prosecution of his Suit, telling him that he shall lose his labour; but he, now he was in, was resolved to go through with his bold undertaking, persevered in it, and used all the Courtships that were usual on that account. It was his place to receive and pay all Moneys, so that all the Servants both men and women, came to him for their wages; and he giving them a cast in his Office, and using them courteously, they dealt with and for him accordingly; besides this, he had bestowed some moneys and presents on the Chamber-maid, who had promised to be at his direction, and to stand his friend in every thing; and indeed she used all her little Rhetorick in his behalf.
He being still refused by his Mistress, was resolved to hazzard all at once, and therefore he caused the Chamber-maid to tell it as a secret that two dayes after that, he was to be married to her Mistress: All the Servants told it to one another whisperingly, and together they provided a noise of Musick to welcome him up on the next Morning: He having thus laid his Plot, and the time being come, about five of the Clock of the next morning after his pretended Wedding-day, by the Chamber-maids connivance he got into his Mistresses Bed-Chamber; and he had not staid there long, but the Musick coming under the Chamber window, tuned their instruments, and struck up a lusty measure: his Mistress being awaked at the noise, cried out, and asked, what is the matter? He being in his Night-Cap, and without a Doublet in his shirt, drawing the Curtains, told her, that the matter she should presently hear: She seeing him in the chamber, and in that posture, wondring at the occasion, called out for the Maid; who although she was near enough, yet would not hear her; she believing that she was betrai’d, thought to cry out, and began to do so, but could not be heard for the noise of the Musick. By this time the Musicians had finished their first tune, and then, as usual, they cryed out, Good Morrow, Mr. Bride-groom; Good Morrow Mrs. Bride, Heavens give you joy. What Bride, and Bridegroom, do they mean, said the Woman. Why, said he, they mean us two; for it having been strongly reported that we were married yesterday, the Musick are come this Morning to play us up, and truly, continued he, I was just now informed of it, and hoping it is by your appointment; and that at length you intend it shall be so, I am come to try your disposition: and thereupon he forced a Kiss from her; and said, Madam, will you be pleased to own this Wedding? No, said she, nor you neither: Then I will, said he; and thereupon the Musick having now plaid another Lesson, he in that posture threw them out of the window four half-Crown-pieces; and standing in that posture for some time, shewed himself, and spake to the Servants and others that were there assembled. And now the Musick having plaid their last Lesson, saluting him with a Thank you Mr. Bridegroom, they departed. He now coming to the bed-side, sat down by his Mistress, and told her, All her people had shewed themselves joyful in his supposed happiness, and that therefore he hoped she would really make him so, by doing that in earnest, that all the World thought was so; and, said he, do you say what you will, it will be thought that it is so, and that I have lain all this Night in your Chamber.
She would not answer him one word, so pensive she was, in considering what had hapen’d; but at length she told him, that if yet he would obey her in any thing, she desired him to call her Maid; he who knew that the Maid would not prejudice him, soon called her; and she was no sooner come into her Mistresses sight, but she cryed out, Oh Lord, Mistress, how joyful I am; at what, replyed the Mistress; that you and Mr. R. are marryed; why, who tells you so, said the Mistress? All the World, said the Maid, not only our family but all the street know it, and the Musick too thankt you for your liberal rewarding them. The Mistress hearing that the Maid was of this mind, did believe that she said true, and that all the Town would ere long be of her opinion; wherefore chiding her Maid for leaving the door open, and telling her, that although all the world did, or might believe that she was married, yet she could say, and swear the contrary, for that she had been her Bed-fellow that night; and therefore, said she, I expect that you will go and undeceive them, and tell them so. The Maid replyed, that although she knew what she said was true, yet she wished it were otherwise; and added, that Mr. R. was more fit to be her Bed-fellow than she was. Well, well, Gossip, replied the Mistress, then you must appoint me what to do. No, answered the Maid, but I only tell you my opinion. No more, said the Mistress, and thereupon was a great silence between them. But Mr. R. being resolved to try her a little further, made a sign to the Maid to leave the Chamber; she obey’d him, and he then again fell to wooing it with his Mistress; who although she gave him no answer for a long time, yet she thought the more and paid it with thinking, and considering the case truly as it stood in every respect, he over-ruled and overcame her; whether he gave her then an earnest penny (as he was like enough to do) or no, I know not; but he keeping her company for some hours, and by her consent getting a Coach, he clapt her into it; and going to the next Church, sent for a Parson, and there that was done in earnest, that had been so well presented in jest; and the next night he did lie with her; and that he might be sure to have Witnesses of his being in bed with her, several of their acquaintance were admitted into the Chamber.